"Blanche, monsieur, Blanche is not in her room. I have sought her vainly for a long time; someone has taken the dear child away from us." "Taken her away!" exclaimed the barber, pretending to be struck with astonishment. He immediately went to Blanche's room, followed by the old servant, who went as quickly as her legs would permit. After a search, which Touquet knew would be fruitless, he threw himself on a seat, crying,-- "The wretch has fulfilled his threats!" "Who do you mean, monsieur!" "That man you saw here yesterday evening." "I believe you're right, monsieur, it can be nobody except him." "He was fascinated with Blanche, he ventured to ask her hand of me. I refused it to him and this is how he has revenged himself." "But, monsieur, you must know where this man lives. He had the bearing of a great nobleman. You can recover our dear child." "I have very little hope of it. This wretch assumed a brilliant costume in the hope of seducing Blanche, but he is a schemer without name, without a roof, without position." "A schemer," said Marguerite, looking at her master in astonishment; "but, monsieur, it seemed to me that he was the same friend that you were waiting for so late some time ago." The barber was for an instant rendered uneasy by Marguerite's remark, but soon recovering himself, he resumed,-- "You are mistaken, it was not he; I forbid you to speak to anybody of that again." "And Urbain, monsieur,--that poor Urbain--when he comes here this evening--" "Urbain will unite his efforts with mine to recover her whom he was about to marry." The barber went out and Marguerite then gave free course to her tears. The good woman loved Blanche with a mother's tenderness. She could not bear to be deprived of her presence, and impatiently awaited Urbain's arrival; for it seemed to her that he would know better than anybody else how to discover and restore her lost darling. Touquet was absent during a large part of the day. On his return, Marguerite inquired as to the success of his search, but he answered her coldly,-- "I have no hope of finding her." These words chilled the poor old woman's heart; she could not understand how anyone could be consoled at the loss of Blanche. The hour drew near when Urbain could recompense himself for the day's absence. "Only one day more," said he, as he approached the barber's house, "and she will be mine." He hurried, his heart palpitating with love, but on looking up at Blanche's window he saw no light, and this slight circumstance astonished him and rendered him uneasy; or rather a secret presentiment warned him of his misfortune, for, in love, presentiments are not chimeras. Urbain knocked and Marguerite appeared, but the grief depicted on her face, her eyes filled with tears, announced that something had happened. "Where is Blanche?" cried Urbain, looking fearfully at Marguerite.